


Dreaming Of You

by kyles_durians



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyles_durians/pseuds/kyles_durians
Summary: Im expecting triggered people to start yelling at me or smth. But hey im an offensive R18 content creator, what would you expect?





	Dreaming Of You

**Stan’s POV**

 

My day was going good, i’d even say it was great. Everything was going smoothly, no violent encounters with my sister, no sudden weird shit exploding in town, it almost felt unusual to me that nothing mindblowing happened today. I mean, on a daily basis, something outrageous (that usually involves the government) happens. So frequently that it doesn't seem unusual anymore. I sometimes wonder why this happens to our town, couldn’t it be San Francisco or something that the North Koreans are trying to blow up, and not a house in fucking South Park? What i’ve heard from Kyle is that San Francisco fucking sucks. They sniff their own farts and blow their smug into the air and pollute everything around them. Disgusting.

That was simply a part of my train of thoughts as I was lazily eating dinner at our dining table, a blank expression plastered on my face for most of the time. I was starting to get used to the taste of non-organic chicken, since the Whole Foods store kinda…  _ Left  _ South Park. Because my dad yelled at it and told a fucking  _ building  _ to leave. What’s even more outrageous was that it  _ did  _ leave, and flew into the sky and everyone just stared at it and said nothing. Oh how beautiful this community is, in this quiet little mountain town. 

Although, over the years, everything has just got shitter and shittier. Sure, yay, new fucking technology, who gives a shit. It’s gonna be trash in the next few weeks anyway.

The only way i could  _ somehow escape  _ from the shittiness of this world, is by drinking and getting drunk off my ass. But seriously, i feel like it opens a whole new world to me, full of sunshine and rainbows and everything that could make me happy.

People say it’s an “addiction” and i should  _ get out of it.  _ Oh will you fucking stop that, it’s one of the few reasons I  _ still  _ have a strong will to live.

 

As i emptied my plate, i stood up and set my dishes and utensils on the sink. I wasted no time to head to the stairs and rush to my room, but then my mom caught my attention. 

 

“Stan, where are you going?”

 

I turned my attention to her. “To my room. I’m gonna head to bed early.” getting to bed early was a lie. “of course, where the fuck else am i supposed to go… “ i mumbled to myself. I mean seriously, where else does she think i’m going to go? 

I focused back on going up the stairs without tripping on my own foot. Which sounds stupid, but it happens.

 

Ah, the door of my room. Several paint peelings, tape and thumbtacks that i was too lazy to remove, and those holes that the pins make. The last time this was painted, i think two years ago? I know it’s just two years, and i, myself, honestly don’t know why the fuck my door ended up like this. This was actually the only time i stared at and observed my door like this. I mean. It. It’s just a shitty brown door.

Wait. I have no reason to call it shitty. It helps to keep the shittyness of the world away from me. Therefore it helps me. I love you, door.

 

Okay i haven’t even took one sip of beer today and i already act like i’m stoned off my balls. How about i  _ actually  _ open the door now? Yeah that sounds like a good idea. 

I opened the door, revealing this mess i call a “room”. Sometimes it’s my hideout cave, when i lock the door and close the window blinds, blocking away all of reality and sunlight, away from my fragile soul that was torn into pieces over and over again, then now afraid to experience the horror and pain of the-

 

Aw to hell with that shit, i ain't got time to be fucking poetic. Now where the hell is my beer.

 

I kneeled down and sat on the floor to open the bottom drawer of my bedside table, then quickly digging my hand past the layer of clothes i put in there, to hide my precious bottles. My parents don’t  _ know _ i drink, and it will stay that way until i’m 18 or something.

As i grabbed a fresh, unopened bottle of beer, i wasted no time in opening it and taking a swig.

I couldn't  care less if it was cold or not, it’s still good. But not as good as iced.

Minutes pass as i continued to drink, then stop for a while, then drink again, and then stop again. I didn’t want to gulp everything down in one fucking sitting. 

As i poured more of the slightly warm liquid down my throat, i started to feel the buzz. Oh hell, that’s it.

 

I wondered why i was already feeling it when i was still halfway through the bottle. I tried to read the alcohol content percentage on the back, but in the condition my eyes are in, i read “32010”, which i assumed was 32%. Holy shit that’s pretty high. That could explain why i already feel the alcohol hitting me.

 

More and more minutes pass, and i get dizzier. Then soon, as expected, i feel the urge to throw up that non-organic chicken we had for dinner.

I attempted to quickly rush to the bathroom, but me being too dizzy and stupid, i just reached for the nearest door outside of my room, and found myself inside a room with green carpeted floor and purple walls. Holy shit, i think i’m not supposed to be here.

It finally came into my mind that i just barged into Shelly’s room. Holy shit i’m fucking dead.

I looked up to see if she was there, silently praying that she was still downstairs. To my dismay, she was there. And. Getting dressed. Fully naked.

She was looking the other way so i couldn’t see anything too extreme, and she couldn’t see me either. And with that, i took the chance to escape. But then, my stupid gag reflex was triggered at the worst time ever, which was  _ right now. _

A disgustingly loud gagging sound came from my throat, and i couldn’t really figure out what happened next, because i focused on puking into the trash can and not onto the carpeted floor.

I could hear Shelly yelling, but i didn’t pay much attention because i was busy getting my dinner out of my system and dumping it into the trash. Quite literally.

Once i finished, i wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my coat, then resting my hand on the wall and shifting my weight onto it.

Before i could even start to fucking breathe, Shelly’s fist sent me toppling down to the floor.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing here, turd?!?!”

I looked up to see her, which was a bad idea. Although now she had a towel around her body, that covered everything i  _ didn’t need _ to see.

 

I couldn’t really think of an excuse, or a proper reason that wouldn’t make her think i was drinking again.

“I, uh, i-i didn’t know you were in here…” really, Stan, really? That’s it? Well it doesn’t matter anyway. She’ll still beat me up even if i had a good excuse.

 

“Well you’re  _ not _ fucking allowed in here!!  _ Get out!!! _ ” She yelled so fucking loud that i thought her tonsils were going to fucking explode.

For a moment there i thought she was kinda tame today. I mean, i expected  _ way _ worse than just getting yelled at. But then that thought quickly vanished from my mind as she kicked and punched me several times, and dragged me out of her room by the hair. Which fucking hurt a lot.

 

I sat there on the floor of the hallway, unable to move while i was composing myself.

 

Shelly then threw the garbage can  _ with my puke in it _ , and i made sure to catch it while it was upright so it wouldn’t spill onto the floor, and i’d be in  _ more _ trouble if that happens. “And take  _ this  _ with you, turd!”

And with that, she angrily slammed the door close, and i heard her lock it. Well it’s great of her to only think of locking it  _ now _ , only after i had barged into her room and almost puked all over her floor. 

 

I then grunted with slight anger in my tone, standing up with the assistance of a doorknob, then picking up the trashcan from where i set it down.

This time, i made completely sure that i was going to the  _ right _ room. Because i swear to god, i do  _ not _ want that thing to happen again. 

As i got in, i was sure that it was  _ really  _ the bathroom this time. I dumped all the contents of the puke-containing trash can, not bothering to see if there were big chunks of trash in it. I assumed there were none anyway.

I lazily cleaned up my mess and put the trashcan on the sink, i don’t wanna clean that up now.

 

And with that i quickly headed back to my room, shutting the door behind me and locking it, just incase someone decides to barge into my room while i’m getting drunk off my ass.

I got my bottle back from where i left it, and sat on my bed, leaning on the headboard. I continued drinking, leaving about less than ¼ of the beer left. I wasn’t finished yet, but i decided to leave a little of it for later.

For a moment there, i thought about life, and what people say to me. They say, “stop drinking, it’s an addiction.” Well fuck you, life is shit, and that’s a reason why i should drink in the first place. It makes life look like a better place. It stops me from losing faith in humanity, it makes me ignore all the bullshit that occurs in life and kinda opens a new world.

God, i wish i could explain that to people. But they all just cut me off and think that every alcoholic is an evil criminal in hiding. They all just jump to stupid conclusions.

 

I sighed slightly, then taking a swig of my beer and drinking it to the last drop.

 

More and more minutes pass, i continue to get more drunk than i already am. With about two or three empty bottles scattered on the floor around me. I soon reached my peak, and felt so fucking dizzy that the urge to shut my eyes close was really high. My eyelids got really heavy, as if they were refusing to open. I soon gave in, closed my eyes, and dozed off into a deep sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Im expecting triggered people to start yelling at me or smth. But hey im an offensive R18 content creator, what would you expect?


End file.
